


Here is the world.

by Nehesemhotep



Series: The Cure for Everything [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Castiel, Brady is uggghh, Castiel Needs a Hug, Depressed Castiel, Depressed Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sam Winchester is awesome, Suicidal Thoughts, don't worry he gets a hug, just all the warnings, lots of comfort, writing is my therapy so yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:59:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean woke up, his head pounding. He opened his eyes to see Cas sprawled on the floor next to the couch, one arm slung over his head, the other covering his eyes.  The bachelor party had been a success. He was pretty sure, at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #2 out of the book of 642 (random number right? ha!) writing prompts sitting by my bed.
> 
> ‘The entire neighborhood is beige and gray, but at the end of the street sits a bright blue house. Who lives there?’

        Dean woke up, his head pounding. He opened his eyes to see Cas sprawled on the floor next to the couch, one arm slung over his head, the other covering his eyes. Dean grinned, which quickly turned to a grimace as he sat up, his stomach giving a warning twist. He slumped back against the couch cushions. The bachelor party had been a success. He was pretty sure, at least. He remembered Charlie coming to help Kevin carry his drunk brother back to Charlie’s house. He remembered that Brady had hit on the stripper and got shut down and it was freakin’ hilarious. He remembered Cas.

        Dean had driven and gotten Cas halfway through the party, which means he didn’t drink much until after midnight. A lot of drinks in a short amount of time. Not smart, Winchester. Dean’s stomach heaved and he stumbled off the couch and down the hallway. Where was the fucking bathroom? He finally found it to the left and made it to the toilet just in time. Dean heard footsteps behind him and a felt a hand on his back, where his t-shirt clung damply with sweat. Gross. Cas didn’t speak, just sat not gracefully on the floor beside him and groaned, but kept his palm rubbing soothing circles on Dean's back. Cas was so touchy feely, it made his heart ache. Especially after their conversation last night.

 

        The party had been going well, and Cas had been pretty quiet but amused, throwing a dry quip here or there, more frequently as he got comfortable with Sam and Dean. Charlie had gotten a women to do a strip tease for them, a small but memorable number. Dean chuckled softly. Cas had smiled good naturedly as the other guys’ eyes bugged out of their skulls. Brady, who was honestly kind of a dick, wanted to have her give Cas a lap dance. Cas had shook his head with a mumbled no thanks. He remembered Brady talking some more and Cas stiffening, and Dean had sat next to Cas and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Buzz off, Brady, Cas here has class.”

        Brady had rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in a whatever gesture, before walking off. “Don’t be an ass, Dean,” Sam had spoken up, “It's not cool to shame her, doesn’t matter that she’s a stripper.” Even though his voice was slightly slurred, and he was more than a little buzzed, his baby brother was still standing up for people. Dean had nothing against her, he had said that to make Brady leave more than anything, but he nodded at his baby brother, “You’re totally right, Sammy.”

        Sam smiled real loose and huffed a laugh, “She’s not aspretty as Jess, though. Jess is _amazing_.”  Dean felt Cas’ body shake in silent laughter next to him and he grinned, repeating,

        “You’re totally right, Sammy.” Just then Kevin came to pull Sam away for something and Dean turned to Cas, who had relaxed and was looking at Dean with smiling eyes. “What?” Dean asked him. Cas shook his head, and took another sip of his drink.  Before long, Cas was chuckling at almost everything and Dean had challenged everyone to darts at least once. Sam was unsteady on his feet and Kevin called Charlie to help get everyone home. Dean was fumbling for his keys when Cas’ hand clasped on his wrist,  “Dean. You can’t drive.” Dean looked at the keys and then at Cas,

        “Yeah. But the house is too far to walk..to.” Cas paused, looking up at Dean almost shyly,  “You can, I have a couch at my house, it’s not far. If you want.”

        “Awesome!” Dean shouted, and Cas grinned. Together they made it back to Cas’ house. In the neighborhood of boring, blase, gray and brown little houses, Cas’ house was a bright blue. It was pretty, Dean told Cas so. Cas had given him a look and spoke very matter of factly, “I know it looks great, I painted it.” Dean found that hilarious and laughed all the way inside the house. He had flopped on the couch and Cas had sat next to him.  They sat in companionable silence for a while.  As the alcohol had started to make it’s way out of their system, Cas had begun to speak. Dean had thrown an arm around Cas again, and Cas turned to look at him, his errant hair brushing against Dean’s arm, “I like this,” he said.

        “Like what?” Dean murmured, his eyes were closed as he rested his head against the back of the couch.

        “How you wrap your arm around me. It makes me feel safe.” Dean opened his eyes and turned to look at Cas, whose cheeks were flushed but his eyes somewhat clear. “I didn’t grow up, with all lot of, affection, I guess you’d say. I wish I could be more tactile. It scares me a little. But less with you.” Cas looked away, down at his hands which he was wringing together. Dean felt a rush of good feelings from the _less with you_ part, because he liked Cas, a lot. Cas continued, his voice wavering, which had Dean narrowing his gaze in concern, “I guess, it’s also hard for me to be affectionate because mostly people interpret it as something else.”

        Dean nodded encouragingly, “Like, they think you want sex or something.”  Cas nodded, taking a shaky inhale.  Dean let out a breath, "Well, man, yeah, that's-"

        “That’s not.  That’s _not_ what I want.”

        Dean was trying to figure out what Cas was attempting to tell him, “Okay?”

        Cas shook his hand, frustrated, “I just, I’m not-” Cas started to panic, his breaths quickening.

        “Hey, it’s okay Cas, whatever you gotta say,” Dean began to wonder if this had to do with Cas’ fear in his suicide note, and he added, “It’s just me here.” Trying to remind Cas that he said he couldn’t hate him. Cas calmed a little, but Dean could see tears running down his cheeks and it was so _wrong_. He turned his body towards Cas and pulled Cas so they were facing each other on the couch.

        Cas’ fingers played with the frayed threads of a quilt, finally looking at Dean, with eyes filled with terror, he whispered, “I’m asexual.” Dean remembered that Sam had told him about what that was once, and was trying to remember when Cas continued, “I don’t want sex, Dean. I don’t feel anything that way, towards anyone. There’s just, nothing there. I don’t know why. Why I can’t feel, a-, aroused or...desire. And I don’t,” Cas was sobbing now, “I just want to be held and loved. I don’t want sex. I just want someone to love me, Dean. What’s wrong with me?”

        Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him into a tight hug. He was still trying to process what Cas was saying, but right now he knew Cas was devastated and hurting and sad, and Dean didn’t like that at all. Dean let him cry, and by the time Cas’ sobs had diminished to snuffles and little shaky breaths, he had pulled together most of it. Cas didn’t feel sexual attraction. He wanted someone to touch him and love him and not want sex. Dean didn’t know what that would feel like, to not feel anything towards guys or girls, but it sure didn’t seem to be something you should hate anyone over.

        Dean suddenly felt angry towards anyone who had made Cas feel bad for who he was. Well, he had Dean on his side now. No one would hurt Cas if he could help it. Dean realized his grip must have tightened, because Cas pulled away suddenly, face pale, “I’m sorry, Dean.” Shit. Cas must think he was angry _at him_.

        “Don’t,” Dean said, “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything.” Cas searched his gaze,

        “You don’t, hate me?”

        “No!” Dean winced at his loud tone, “No, Cas. Why would I care about that? You’re my friend. That stuff, sex, it’s not, like life. It’s not everything.” Dean took a deep breath, “I guess I’m just saying, if you like sex, or want it, or whatever, great. If you don’t, if you don’t feel stuff that way, great for you, too. It doesn’t change how much you matter. Cas, I like you no matter what, okay?”

        Cas looked stunned, blinking. Silently he pressed himself to Dean again and buried his face in Dean’s t-shirt. He nodded, and Dean felt the t-shirt growing damp. Dean wanted to press a kiss into Cas’ hair, but he didn’t know what Cas thought about kisses, even platonic kisses. So he stroked a hand through his hair instead. They fell asleep like that, with Cas nestled against Dean. Cas must have gotten up or rolled off in the night, which is how he had ended up on the floor next to the couch.

       

        Dean finally stopped throwing up and lifted his head to look at Cas, whose head was resting on his folded knees. “You have any aspirin?” Dean’s voice was raw from getting sick. Ugh, he needed to brush his teeth too.

        “Uh huh.” Cas sighed, and slowly lifted his head, giving Dean a small smile and helping lift the both of them off the floor. Twenty minutes later, Dean was sitting at Cas’ dining room table, glaring at the cup of coffee in front of him. He really wanted coffee. But he really didn’t want to throw up again. Fuck it. He reached for the mug just as his cell phone rang, causing both him and Cas to jump. Dean answered it as Cas pushed a piece of toast in his direction.

        “Hey, Kevin, is Sam coherent?” Kevin mumbled something about Sam still passed out on the couch. “Well, remember the wedding ceremony is at 3. Make sure he’s at the church at 2 or...else.” Dean hit the end call button and looked up at Cas’ amused expression,

        “Or else?” Dean shrugged his shoulders,

        “Nothing I could threaten would compare to the wrath of Jess if Sam’s late, and he knows it,” Dean grinned, “He’s got time, though.” Cas smiled back. They finished breakfast and Dean stood up to leave,

        “Hey, Cas, will you be at the reception?” Cas started, eyes wide,

        “You want me there?” The vulnerability that Cas had shown last night was there again. Dean walked over and squeezed Cas’ shoulder,

        “Absolutely.”

        Cas pulled Dean into a brief hug, before stepping back quickly, “You better head out, I’ll see you at-?”

        “Six. At the little banquet hall downtown. I think on Main Street.”

        “Sounds good.” Cas gave Dean one last, beaming smile before he grabbed his coffee mug off the table and Dean stepped out the door.


	2. Reception Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where is all this angst coming from?!! I didn't mean to... But don't worry, next chapter will be better.

        The wedding went perfectly. Jess cried. Sam cried. Dean definitely did _not_ cry, and there is certainly _no_ evidence that Charlie will hide for future blackmail purposes.  Even Brady was somewhat subdued.  Once the vows were said and the new Mr. and Mrs. Winchester walked down the aisle, Dean felt himself getting anxious to make his way over to the banquet hall.

        Walking into the hall a couple hours later, his gaze swept over the white lilies and pink roses that lined the tables and the soft glow of lamps on the tables.  Dean couldn't help but smile, thinking of how involved Sam was in the reception and the wedding. The way he turned his lawyer sharp focus on Jess, baring through the color swatches and the bouquets of flowers, to make sure she got exactly what she wanted.  

        More and more people began to trickle in, and Dean frowned, worry gnawing in the bottom of his stomach.  Cas didn't seem to be the kind of person who would be late.  "What's the matter, Dean. Going to cry again?"  Charlie's teasing voice was followed by the queen herself, dressed to the nines in green satin, with a crown of tiny white flowers.  Dean rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms with a huff,

        "I though you were keeping tabs on the bride and the overgrown man-child."  Dean was unable to keep the affection out of his voice, and Charlie's smile softened,

        "Jess and Sam are on their way, and are extremely happy that you are here."  Dean felt a blush grace his cheeks, but was saved from responding by the buzz of his cell phone.  Charlie punched him lightly on the arm and made her way cheerfully off to a couple of friends on the other side of the room.  Dean looked down at the text message, fighting the initial wave of hurt. Cas' message simply read.

_I'm sorry I can't make it_

Just as Dean was trying how to process that, another message came through,

_please Dean I_

Dean waited, but no other message came through.  Looking up at the half full banquet room, he backed out a side door and out to his car.  Something wasn't right about all of this.  The gentle rumble of the impala placated his nerves but momentarily, as he drove to the bright blue house.  Dean knocked on the door, and there was no answer.  He tried the doorknob, and it was open.  

        "Cas?" he called softly, heart pounding.  Dean made his way through the kitchen where mugs and half eaten pieces of toast still remained from the morning.  The sound of muffled sobbing came from a room at the far end of the hall.  Cas was folded in on himself, arms protectively covering his head and neck as he rocked and cried softly.  His phone was on the floor a few feet away.  "Cas?"  Dean spoke again, glad to hear that his voice was still steady.  His heart hurt at the sound of Cas' sobs.  He also knew how badly you had to feel to break down like Cas was doing.  He had done this many times, hiding his tear stained face from Sam, using a pillow or a shower to smother the sound.  Slowly he knelt down next to Cas and placed a gentle hand on his hair, which resulted in Cas letting out a broken sob, followed by a litany of _I'm sorry_ s _._ Dean sighed, "Oh, Cas."  He knew this, too well.  The guilt, the fear, pain, anger, helplessness, as your own mind betrayed you.  The loneliness.  But Cas wasn't alone anymore. Not while Dean was still breathing.  He shushed his friend, and kept stroking a hand through his hair. Cas began to quiet, leaning into Dean's touch.

        "All right, let's get you up, okay?" Dean made sure to speak softly, "I know you're hurting right now. I don't know why, but I'm not angry.  I'm your friend okay? Can you trust me? Can you stand up for me?"  Cas let out shaky breaths and managed to nod.  Dean let out a breath himself, "Good. That's good, Cas."  Slowly Dean pulled Cas to his feet, and the man refused to meet his eyes, instead tucking his face into Dean's shoulder with a muffled,

        "I'm sorry."  Dean's phone had been buzzing for the last few minutes, and he knew that it was Charlie, wondering where he was, that he had missed his brother's and Jess' arrival.  Dean bit back his frustration and responded to Cas with a measured,

        "I know."  He did know.  He knew Cas was scared of people rejecting him, hating him.  The fear that his depression was a burden to others and the feelings of guilt for making others "deal" with it.  That being alive was more trouble than he was worth.  That he was worthless.  Dean blinked the tears away, and after a couple minutes, Dean gently pulled away from Cas,

        "Hey, you want to take a shower, than we can go to the reception."  Cas shook his head mutely.  Dean spoke with a little more force, "Cas, you're really scaring me here.  Listen. I'm not mad, okay?  I'm not," Dean squeezed his shoulder, softening his tone again, "Trust me, I get it, but you're coming with me, okay? Please take a shower, you will feel better."

        Cas' shoulder's slumped, and Dean felt minutely guilty, but the man walked to the bathroom and the water turned on.  Dean walked into the kitchen and sat down on a chair, his head in his hands.  He couldn't believe he was here.  He had just met Cas, what, two days ago.  He barely knew this guy.  But Dean already knew that Cas never just going to be "some guy".  He was kind, strong, sad, and quietly sarcastic.  He was a good man.  When he smiled, Dean swore he stopped breathing a little bit.  Dean wanted to see that smile again.  

        Soon the water turned off and Cas walked out, dressed in simple, but nice clothes.  He wore dark jeans and a long sleeve button up, in a dark blue.  A little under-dressed for a wedding reception, but Dean didn't care.  He could tell Cas was trying his best to keep it together, and he looked good, anyway.  Cas' face was wary, his shoulders tense.  His eyes were puffy from crying as he scanned Dean's figure, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away, swallowing hard.  Dean stood up and as he got close he noticed Cas was trembling slightly.  Not speaking, Dean picked up Cas' jacket that had been flung on the couch and held it out to him.  Cas fingers brushed Deans as he took it.  Once on,  Dean brushed Cas' damp hair from his face and pulled him into a light hug, "You got me, Cas. Hang on to me, okay? I got you. Hang on to that."  As Cas' fingers curled in Dean's suit jacket, Dean wondered if he needed Cas as much as Cas needed him.  Dean cleared his throat and pulled away, "Now, let's go get some pie."  

        Cas' mouth quirked as he spoke, "You mean cake. It's the traditional fare, after all."  Cas' blue eyes were cautiously teasing.  Dean schooled his face into a glare, then turned and walked out the door, chest lightening at the sound of chuckling behind him.


	3. Reception Part Two

        The drive over to the reception was quiet.  As the breeze came in through the side windows of the Impala, ruffling Cas' hair, the lines smoothed over his face, and Dean heard a couple deep breaths.  They pulled up to the banquet hall, where Cas tensed up again, but Dean nudged him through the door that led to the kitchen, which wouldn't put them in the spotlight as they walked in.

        The hall was filled with music, although no one was dancing yet.  Dean saw Sam laughing with his friends from Stanford, and Jess was talking with her parents.  Dean looked around for Charlie, but she was no where to be found.  "Are you going to dance?"  Cas asked, looking at the empty dance floor.

        Dean laughed, "Yeah, not going to happen."  Cas squinted, and had a look on his face that said he was sure going to try to make it happen.  Dean's stomach flip-flopped. 

        "Dean!  What the hell, dude. Where've you been?"  

        Although Sam's voice was more curious than angry, Dean felt Cas stiffen next to him,  "That was my fault. I-umm." Cas stammered, and Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pretending to look at Sam closely,

        "Dude, is that a hickey?"  

         Sam's hand quickly came up to his neck, and Dean grinned obnoxiously.  "You jerk!"  Sam said.  Dean shrugged,

        "So you good?"  Sam's look of pretend ire melted, and a goofy smile started to spread across his face.

        "Yeah. Thanks, Dean."  

        Castiel had relaxed under Dean's arm, and spoke up, "Jess looks beautiful, Sam. All of this." he gestured around the room.  

        Sam was still looking distractedly at Jess across the room,  "She is."  

        Dean snorted and looked over at Cas.  Cas' eyes were still a little red, but they seemed happy.  When Dean winked, Cas' eyebrows raised and his eyes widened.  At that moment, Charlie approached; she honed in on Cas with hawk-like determination, swooping him away, talking animatedly.  She glanced briefly back at Dean and mouthed, _He's so cute._

Dean spent a little while chatting with Sam and his friends.  He made several trips to the food, and said hi to Jess' parents, who were actually really nice.  He was humming around a mouthful of mini ham sandwiches when he finally spotted Cas again.  He was surrounded by Charlie, Jess, and a couple of the bridesmaids.  His posture was relaxed, and he was talking freely, smiling and laughing.  

        Charlie had adorned him with her flower crown, and it looked like someone had thrown confetti on his shoulders.  Cas must have felt Dean's eyes on him because he turned and caught Dean's gaze.  He smiled, a wide, genuine smile that reached his eyes, and Dean smiled back, feeling giddy with the joy that emanated from Cas and within himself.  

        And that feeling lasted through the end of the night, even as Cas caught him in a dance.

 

       After that night, Cas and Dean were in almost constant communication.  Although Dean lived a few hours away, he found himself at Cas' bright blue house more and more often.  Cas told Dean a little more about his family.  Dean told Cas a few things about his past, about his parents.  Watching the way Cas showed his emotions so freely, and the way Cas held his confidence, protectively so, Dean began to show his own vulnerabilities to Cas, his own demons.  

        There was one night after Dean had a particularly bad nightmare that he had called Cas, voice still thick with tears. Cas had talked with him, asked him if he wanted to drive up to the beach.  Dean had replied, "It's 1 am, Cas."  

        Cas had responded back with his warm, soothing voice, "Time doesn't matter to me, Dean. You matter.  I love you."  Dean's breath had caught in his throat, but he couldn't make himself say the words back, and Cas didn't press, instead he said quietly, "Please, I want you to come."  And Dean had driven up to Cas' house, arriving at 4 am, the sound of the waves surprisingly loud in the extreme quiet of the early morning.  

        Cas had opened his door and pulled Dean into a crushing embrace, and then dragged him into the kitchen, where he had made pancakes.  They curled up on the sofa and watched tv, and ate pancakes.  As the sun rose, they fell asleep, arms wrapped around each other.  Dean think he understood something important that night.  

        The intimacy of simple acts like these, the weight of Cas' arm on his chest and the smell of salt on his skin, the way Cas held Dean so lovingly, his breath smelling of pancake syrup ghosting over Dean's cheek and nose, was so much more than Dean had had in any prior relationship.  Cas' love wrapped around him and into him with his words, his affection, his acceptance.  And Dean never wanted to let that go. 

 

 


End file.
